Heartlines
by The Woman on a Flaming Pie
Summary: Tired, just tired of the demands of the shinobi world, Haruno Sakura seeks refuge in Konoha's newest ally: the Gotei 13. Here the very controversial union of Kuchiki Byakuya and his wife Hinata will be introduced, as well as threatened. It will be then when ensuing chaos forces Sakura to rekindle her Will of Fire. { AU Naruto. Semi-AU Bleach. Sakura-centric. ByaHina. }
1. Drumming Noise

Standard disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, Naruto, or any of the lyrics I may use.

Beta: Girl-Chama.

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_HEARTLINES_

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**1**

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Drumming Noise

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Her heels echoed loudly on the hard floor. In her line of work, such a resounding noise would have left her out of a job, most likely killed, struck down for either her arrogance - at best - or for her ignorance. But, she was well-versed in intimidation and its very valuable psychological aspects. Sakura carefully measured her steps, strong enough to emit a cool confidence, yet slow enough to yield a false nonchalance. Of course, it did not help that her proprietor was flighty - something that had been brought to her attention at her first - and silent - approach of the employing man. For someone who hired ninja he was without a doubt myopic about their capabilities. He had been definitely frazzled by her sudden emergence from the shadows, but then again, she had not come in contact with anyone else who did not hold some smidge of paranoia while under the radar. A few others who operated underground she had had the chance of meeting hid it well, behind stoic facades or irrational smirks; the latter evidence of one succumbing to neurosis and turning, for lack of a better word, insane. She hid it behind the former, but she felt it, scratching at her skin, writhing in her belly, wringing her throat, gripping her organs - always flickering underneath.

The corridor was poorly lit, illuminated only by the shifting shades of gray. In the darker corners faint scrabbling sounds could be heard, fraying her nerves even further. Her gut screamed at her to flee this place and never come back.

But she had come back - many times. The inevitable lightening of her wallet spoke of her need.

Sakura was glad for the lack of clear lighting, however; there were most likely things she would rather not witness hidden in the shadows. Her gaze remained straight ahead where a hunched figure swiveled in her direction. A few more steps and she would be free of this burden; her arm was starting to protest at the load it was dragging behind her.

"Very good, nin-san," praised the man, his flitting eyes alighting on the mark before staring pointedly at her covered face. His regrettably curious gaze picked at the folds of her scarf and hood, hoping to find something more visible than just her muted green eyes.

Her spine twitched but she resisted the urge to straighten, merely narrowing and freezing her eyes in a chilling and warning glare. She dropped the body, her hand stiff from clenching so tightly and dragging the weight. Sakura hardened herself to the crack as the head of the body hit the bare cold floor. She extended her cramped hand, empty palm facing up, prompting fingers twitching.

She watched as he pursed his cracked gray lips in disappointment of her lack of verbal communication before taking his sweet time to count out the bounty. The sound of the money moving against itself was suddenly the only noise in the stale air. She was sure that hers was not the only pair of eyes within the illicit structure to be on the man's knurled hand. A gleam flashed in his eyes and he paused in the transaction.

With clenched teeth, she abstained from snatching the money and waited with wavering patience. Shifting ever so slightly, she felt the cold, comforting kiss of a blade against the skin of her leg in her boot; the smooth inked paper of explosion tags up her sleeves; the straight spines of the poison-tipped senbon tucked behind her ear.

"Why don't you take a larger bounty, nin-san?" inquired the commissioner. "I have several high-ranked heads lined up. You haven't failed so far - "

Behind her scarf, her mouth - already a flat line - tightened into a bloodless crease. "No," she answered curtly, now no longer making her want for the money subtle.

He turned suspicious, and it did not go unnoticed by her. She swiftly lifted her bounty from the man's idle hand and turned away, heading into the shadows that would hide her from the commissioner's wary stare. Thankfully, her mark decided to regain consciousness at that time - judging by the pained groans and slow movements that drew the commissioner's attention from her - and she slipped away.

Her wallet was now pleasantly distended, but her belly was still empty. More importantly, her throat was dry. She tugged her scarf from her face to rest at her collarbones and wet her lips in anticipation. Her hood remained raised, though, as she travelled alongside a main road to a nearby town.

Rotating her sore wrist, Sakura frowned as she thought over the proprietor's offer. It was certainly logical to go for the larger bounties, that way she could limit her trips to the commission house. The more time she spent in that place, the more likely she could get reported. So far, no one was discernibly tracking her, but that did not mean someone could not let it slip that she was in the Land of Waves in offhand conversation. After all, pink hair was uncommon and definitely memorable.

While the prospect of more money and less time in the commissioner's company was appealing, the reality of it was discouraging. The chances of her actually succeeding in taking in someone with a heavy bounty on his or her head were very slim; the chances of her surviving even slimmer. Higher-profiled targets were much more skilled than the marks she purposefully chose. The greater the skill the greater the price due to the risk involved. She knew that many bounty hunters went the route of more money, thus few went for the lower bounties that usually consisted of targets that could be taken in without the assistance of chakra. She could not afford to get greedy and risk confronting an exceptional opponent.

Keeping a hand on her hood to ensure it would not fall, she tipped her head back to survey the dark sky, cobalt blue tinged with the brown-purple of pollution. It was night, and the faint imprint of the moon had reached its zenith already and was currently sinking toward the horizon. She quickened her pace, hoping to find a bar still selling in the town. Then, Sakura snorted - she was in a port, of course there would be alcohol.

Sakura slipped through the outskirts of the port town, the stiff salty breeze of the ocean growing stronger as it struck her face with each quiet step closer to the shore. Patience had never been among her strengths. It was there, yes, but her short-fused temper flared too often and dwarfed everything else in its jumping shadow.

Rowdy laughter almost made her jump - her hand, too, she realized as she peeled her fingers from steel. A crew of pirates spilled out into the street to leave, and they were not the only thing spilling; the smell of rum hit her nose. _The Ugly Bastard_, so eloquently worded, christened the nearby bar. The doorway was framed asymmetrically by one drunkard slumped over on one side while on the other side was another drunkard doing his best to stay on his feet.

Sakura watched a small gaggle of dirty children cloister around the sleeping drunk after the departure of the hiccupping and swaying pirates. Grimy fingers poked and prodded at the folds in the unconscious man's stained clothing, fumbling in empty and hole-ridden pockets for any telltale jingle of a possible meal to fill their owners' vociferating bellies, shrunken with hunger.

Her own hand cradling the curving bottom of her collected bounty money, she sighed inwardly; she could afford to drop a handful of ryō. At the slightly panicked sound of the destitute children's squabbling at the complete lack of money on the drunkard - probably all spent on alcohol - Sakura listlessly cursed her bleeding heart - for she really needed to harden it by now. But ... maybe this one last time...

Sakura deviated from her path through the tavern's door and approached the group of squabbling children, the hem of her cloak swirling gently around her thighs. They stilled at her obscure form, their stark gazes focusing on her, their stringy limbs bracing for her. A few of the more cautious ones began inching their way away from her; others shrinking from the billowing shape of her shadow.

A slide and a hefty thump startled them all - she as well, though she hid it much better. Her gaze momentarily flicked to the now recumbent drinker blocking the threshold of the bar with his prone body. Fighting the puerile urge to roll her eyes, Sakura briefly turned her attention back to the distressed kids.

The hunger shone in each child's disquieted gaze - the only snatch of illumination within dimmed desolation. It gleamed falsely and harshly like the mysterious kitsune-bi Sakura had witnessed while drifting through the Land of Swamps. She blinked suddenly, rapidly, and averted her eyes before angling her body away from the children. She flung her hand in her wake, the earned coins falling behind her onto the previously searched drunk where she heard the frantic scrabbling and the cries of bewilderment.

Sakura did not dare look over her shoulder but instead resumed her course to _The Ugly Bastard_, stepping over the other drunk lying in front of the tavern's threshold, ignoring the lush's blundering hand for her attention and his inebriated muttering.

The inside of the tavern was a mess, all signs characteristic of a bacchanalia complete with shards of glass in sporadic pools of liquor, scattered scraps of food, and a couple of seriously affronted women. The bartender - a normally jubilant man judging by the laugh lines etched near his now scowling mouth - flicked gnawed pieces of meat off the counter in a surly manner at the rear of the establishment.

"Bleedin' pirates," Sakura heard him curse under his breath before slapping a damp rag onto the wooden surface and scrubbing. "... Last time I serve 'em glass."

The glass crunched under her boots, alerting the man to Sakura's presence. She swiped at the shattered remains of a mug off a seat with the back of her hand, the glass tinkling lightly as the riveted metal of her bracer met the shards. She then slid gingerly onto the barstool, perching her leaned frame on the edge of the seat.

"Anything left?" she inquired softly, noting the non-lecherous way the man appraised her.

The bartender simply shrugged, "Enough for you, onēsan."

Sakura mentally scoffed at his words, knowing that even if the tap had been full it would not have been enough for her. It was more than her throat that thirsted for the numbing oblivion that alcohol brought. She shifted restlessly - in the process of un-crossing and crossing her legs when she froze.

There - on the edge of her awareness, so stretched - was an approaching chakra signature, very powerful and very fast. She probably could have put a name and face to such a recognizable force if she had taken the time; however, she had no time to do such a time-consuming act.

Perhaps it was her instability that augmented the sensations but Sakura could feel the attention honed on her like tunnel-vision, the overwhelming pressure that was crushing her lungs and closing her throat. Her heart threw itself painfully at her ribcage until Sakura was sure the bones were leaving indents on the cardiac muscle. Her pocket felt suddenly hot and heavy at the same time, where she knew a piece of engraved metal on a narrow cloth lay stuffed.

"Wait ..." She raised a hand to accompany her voice, and the man paused in the act of tipping the bottle. "I'll take it to go," she eventually continued, but mentally cringing at the way her words fluctuate.

"... 'to go'?" parroted the bartender, his brows pulling together in confusion. "We don't do 'to go', onēsan - "

She slapped her fistful of money down on the much-abused counter, ryō crashing. "For your extra troubles then," she snarled at him.

Incredibly disturbed and frightened by her sudden change of mood, the man quickly shoved the bottle to her impatient - and trembling - hands.

Sakura knew it was not right for her to take her anger out at the poor man but after so long, her paranoia maltreated this certain emotional outlet and lashed out, unrestrained. Her nerves jumped at the chance to be expressed, and her body subsequently snapped into action. Sakura tucked the rum bottle away and sprinted out of the bar, leaping over the drunk from before.

Dawn was coming. The eastern sky paled as herald of the light of the sun. Rosy hues were thrown up onto the cool canvas of the receding night. Sakura's frame quivered acutely as she surveyed the rising warmth. She swiveled her head to the left, where the shadows were long and offered solace from the light.

She could not outrun the sun - no, not by a longshot - but she could try to make it to the mainland and lose her follower. She could hide out in a safehouse for a few weeks, and then find someone crazy enough to take her to the Land of Whirlpools - she would not be tailed to such a deserted location, right? Or the Land of Iron where she could slip amongst the samurai...

It was no use, Sakura was coming to believe, as her lungs rattled and her legs wobbled with each bound she pushed herself to take. If only her brain could run for her - she would be halfway across the Land of Wind by now. But she was still on the island of the Land of Waves with a nin able to outstrip her on her heels. Adrenaline only got one so far, and this far happened to be the western coastline. The Great Naruto Bridge was within her sight, but it went on for miles before connecting to the Land of Fire on the other side.

She gritted her teeth, her breath hissing as her chest heaved. Her options were paltry and pathetic, so when her foot hit the wooden planks of the bridge, she threw her body into a violent twist and planted herself into a fighting stance. She vaguely registered that she must be a sight with her eyes rolling crazily in the sockets, with her sweaty hair threatening to fall from the bun, with her cramping legs coming close to buckling under her weight. Despite this, Sakura remained resolute as she waited to face her pursuer. In a worst-case scenario, she could detonate explosive tags and destroy this end of the bridge. However, that would mean she would be leaving thousands of people without a quick route to the mainland.

Had she really become so selfish to place her personal safety above many others? She could not be captured; she refused to be taken back to Konoha. Regardless of what punishments awaited her for leaving, she did not want to return to what was waiting for her. There were reasons as to why she left in the first place, so she would confront her pursuer and fight like hell. But, if push came to shove ... a paper tag crinkled in her clenched fist.

.::|::.

From a crouched and cloaked form, an arm stretched out, and gloved fingers gently traced one shoe imprint out of many. To anyone else, it would have seemed random, given the multiplicity of foot traffic that went through this point in front of a less-than-credible drinking establishment crassly named _The Ugly Bastard_.

But to this specific person, this specific imprint confirmed everything. A single impression of a heel of a high-heeled boot, smeared in a wide curve, indicating the motion of turning sharply to the west.

A self-satisfied smirk curled upon a cold face, and he straightened, spine stretching to a near-impossible ramrod line. Sakura was getting sloppier the longer she remained a rogue; the woman was certainly able to successfully remove all traces of her scent, making it futile to utilize any ninken or Inuzuka; it was to be expected though, considering the kunoichi's former teacher Hatake Kakashi. Through means he could only speculate, even Aburame clansmen could not descry the slightest sampling of her chakra or pattern of her presence. For those reasons, the tracking was left to him. Off the books, of course. He reasoned that he had accumulated enough hours to take some time off and spend it searching for a kunoichi who could not be found.

It was extraordinary as to how long Sakura had actually eluded detection; truly genius as to what lengths the woman had went to in order to disappear. He would admit that she originally had him - of all people! - stumped. But now that he had figured out her technique, Sakura could not escape his omnipresent gaze.

Ignoring the drunk slovens groveling in the dirt, the shinobi's mouth quickly turned into a grim line of determination. He would find the vexatious woman, even if said woman was fleeing from him in vain. Sakura could carom across the Shinobi Countries, but he would always find her. Every technique had a flaw, and he had found hers.

.::|::.

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author's notes: welcome to the first chapter of _Heartlines_. Review... Please. Tell me what you think; what you want to see; what you do not want to see; your expectations; your thoughts; your feelings ... yeah, tell_ me_** everything**.


	2. Darkest of Marks

Disclaimer: That is pretty cool if you think that I own Naruto/Bleach... But I do not.

Beta: Girl-Chama.

Soundtrack: "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence + the Machine.

author's notes: Thanks for the reviews! All shall be revealed in good time. And Maddest Hatter: such kind words! Thank you!

I am grateful to welcome animelover171, Foxy3000Kitty, I'llBeYourBeautifulNightmare, icegoddess52, iiDorkie, like. 56, matthieu-williams, musicmiss18, MystereKitsune, Vertigo-in-Reverse, and Yuuki-Hime 2097 for finding this to be interesting enough. And I sincerely appreciate Foxy3000Kitty, I'llBeYourBeautifulNightmare, Iorieth, musicmiss18, MystereKitsune, and xxhurlyxx for favorite'ing this.

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_HEARTLINES_

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**2**

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Darkest of Marks

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_"'Gone'? What do you mean, 'gone'?"_

_"No one can find her, Naruto."_

_He planted his hands on Tsunade's desk, refusing to look away from the older woman's stern gaze. "I can do it. I can find her and bring her back home!"_

_Refusing to be swayed by the boy who seemed to embody her loved ones' ideals, Tsunade leaned forward, eyebrows snapped sharply together as her glare intensified. "Naruto - "_

_"Out of the question! You, Uzumaki, have more important things to do! You cannot cavort all over the Elemental Countries looking for some girl," declared a wrinkled council member._

_He shook with passion. "Sakura-chan is not just 'some girl', you old bat! She's a comrade and my best friend."_

_"You said the same thing about the Uchiha brat, and look how well that turned out," the elder sniped back._

_The wood creaked from his tightening grip, and he opened his mouth to reply hotly._

_"Enough," ordered Tsunade, slamming her clenched fist down on the desk, upstaging any damage he could have done. Several stacks of paperwork shuddered and slid off the desk, causing Shizune to wilt at the mess from her position behind Tsunade._

_"Naruto, I have sent out tracking parties. _No one_ can find her. According to every Inuzuka's and Aburame's account, neither her scent nor her chakra can be found."_

_He slapped his open palms against the wooden surface in frustration, the crack ringing in the air. "No! That isn't good enough!"_

_Shizune gasped and Tsunade's face darkened. "Get out," she barked to the overly-interested council. The sadistic gleam in their eyes was replaced by the offense of loss of dignity as they grudgingly ambled out of the Hokage's office._

_As soon as the door clicked shut, Tsunade surged to her feet and grasped his collar, bringing his face close to hers._

_"I've given you a lot of leeway, brat. Do not make the mistake that you are the only one who cares about Sakura."_

_He twisted his mouth in some indiscernible mixture of emotions before throwing himself back to get out of Tsunade's grip. "You should care... You're the one who did this to Sakura-chan!"_

_He waited for Tsunade to explode at the accusation, much like she usually would, but it never happened._

_He watched as her shoulders slumped and her facial muscles slackened, the tight, puckered expression falling. Tsunade painstakingly lowered herself back into her chair and settled for merely staring into his face._

_"You're right, Naruto. I am the one who did this to Sakura."_

_Shizune made one hesitant step towards her guardian's side. "Milady ..." she murmured._

_"No, Shizune... It was too much too soon," Tsunade conceded._

_It was then when he really looked at the elder woman. Tsunade had always upheld an outward youthful visage, but now he realized that even transformation techniques could not completely cover the stress and hardship this woman had gone through - and was still going through. Jiraiya had told him that Tsunade was not one to age gracefully and, as a result, lived a lie. He could see the grayed tone of her once peachy skin; see the washed out hue of her usually rich brown eyes underscored with dark purple smudges; see the tremors of her limbs that she tried to hide by thrusting her hands under her desk._

_"I won't let you look for her, Naruto," she eventually said. "Somehow she has disappeared, and we must rely on her to come back to us on her own free will."_

_He fisted his hands at his sides but did not argue. His gaze wandered to the window where the structure framed the Hokage Monument quite nicely._

_"If you are to ever take my place, Naruto ... you must learn that you must put the welfare of the village before anything or anyone else."_

_"But, bāchan ... what kind of Hokage would I be if I let my friends go?"_

_"Trust. Trust in Sakura... Now get your ass out of here, brat. Those blowing bags of bones were right in that you have important things to do..."_

.::|::.

Tenzō blew a weary breath from between his lips. His dark gaze drifted to the ruffled blond head where his charge was uncharacteristically silent and still. Usually Naruto would be bouncing on his heels, or fiddling with his father's kunai, or pestering him with questions, or complaining loudly of the wait. After used to the endless clamor of Naruto, this somber, disquieted man unnerved Tenzō.

The blonde man was staring off into the distance, his normally vivid blue eyes that used to glow with vivacity were partially covered by his drooping lids. The breadth of his shoulders had diminished slightly, leading Tenzō to believe that Naruto was starting to feel the negative effects of the burdens on him.

Had anyone asked him to describe Uzumaki Naruto, the first thing Tenzō would have said would have been _the sun_. With hair that went off in more directions than the light of the sun itself, and with eyes that shone like the summer sky, Naruto held an internal radiance that he had not seen in anyone else that was able to extend and affect the hearts of people in such inspiring ways. The sheer warmth that Naruto exuded was positively infectious, like that of flooding sunbeams.

But the pain that Naruto carried deep within his core burned with the dark heat of the sun. The agony of abandonment tempered him inside; those closest to Naruto left in their own ways, leaving the young man in solitude, an empty and lonely vacuum. Tenzō knew that Naruto took the disappearance of Sakura hard. He knew that Naruto considered the young woman to be the last bond he had left of Team 7. For Sakura to vanish like - and unlike - the last Uchiha had struck Naruto a more painful blow than that any opponent could ever attempt to muster. Despite all of Sakura's flaws, she was the gravity that kept them all together, the undeniable force that was somehow able to keep them close but also able to intervene in order to prevent them from colliding and to remind them of both their proximities and limitations. But now without Sakura, they drifted apart - though, in Sai's case, it was more like flying apart.

For a time, Tenzō saw Sai often, far more than Naruto did. The mysterious man had been promoted to Co-Commander of ANBU, outranking him and leaving him feeling suddenly old. However, Tenzō found himself to be wearing his ANBU mask less and less during his assignment to watch over Naruto and keep him on task. First and foremost, he was to ensure that Konohagakure would not lose its weapon - he used that term loosely, even within his mind - whether it be to another power grab or to another heroic attempt to bring home a comrade.

Tenzō originally had been apprehensive at the thought of joining Naruto - not to say he would disobey an order. The ANBU, an already small, selective group of invaluable individuals, had depleted in number, many of the skilled, senior operatives casualties from the War. He had been uneasy leaving the organization - even temporarily - to the hands of the younger generation. But Kakashi had told him that the new generation would always surpass the current. Besides, from what he saw of Hyūga Neji, Tenzō could rest a little easier since the young noble was Sai's colleague.

The Hyūga prodigy and Sai's encounters were well-known within the headquarters. Though, those encounters were considered more as power struggles from the aristocrat's point of view. Tenzō had heard plenty of the complaints the Hyūga Clan had brought forth to the Godaime Hokage; something about the "_disgrace_" for a member of the "_Hyūga Clan_" to "_share_" such a powerful position with a "_nobody_".

He had never actually heard Neji complain about the joint leadership. Undeniably, there was friction between the two young men but very little animosity towards each other. Perhaps, if Sakura were still here, she might have been able to knock some sense into Sai - both physically and behaviorally. Tenzō allowed a weak smile to flit across his face as he pictured Sai's punishment courtesy of the slender kunoichi. She would imperiously reprimand him. He would unknowingly insult her. She would brutally retaliate with frightening force. Naruto would without a doubt somehow get involved. She would strike him, too. Tenzō would have to mediate; probably scare Naruto into submission with his ghoul eyes and threaten the other two with his wooden cage. As strange as it sounded, those had been the good times.

Hesitant scuffs of nin sandals broke Tenzō out of his reverie. He straightened suddenly from his relaxed slouch that had occurred during his thoughts. Out of the corner of his eye, Tenzō saw Naruto slowly raise his head and focus on the new arrival. A bespectacled woman slightly on the mousy side made her way to them. Absolutely awestruck, the woman nearly vibrated, causing her glasses to slide down her nose.

"It's-it's-it's an honor, Uzumaki-sama," the woman declared in a dramatic hush while pushing her glasses back up with a finger that was trembling so hard Tenzō almost thought it was going to bypass her eyewear completely and head right into her eye.

The blond man sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck at the obvious adoration. "It's just Naruto. I'm not that special."

The woman's eyes came close to popping out of her head, looking incredibly horrified and scadalized at the thought, before she viciously shook her head, causing her glasses to slide down her nose again. "Uzumaki-sama!" she insisted.

"Can we see Raikage-sama now?" Tenzō asked as she once again pushed her glasses up her nose.

"Oh-! Yes, yes, of course! I'm deeply sorry for the wait, Uzumaki-sama. Follow me, please. A-sama has agreed to hear your plea."

_Plea_? Tenzō echoed in his head, mildly displeased at the choice of word. The Yondaime Raikage's bullheadedness was the reason as to why he and Naruto were in the Land of Lightning to begin with. It was not as though they _wanted_ to confront the tempestuous Kage, but the hulking man refused to back down and accept the terms established after the victory of the War.

"Cool. Lead the way," shrugged Naruto to the wide-eyed secretary, surprising Tenzō considerably with his nonchalance.

No - it was not nonchalance, Tenzō realized as he studied Naruto more. It was maturity; Naruto had grown up. Kakashi had told him of the young, simple boy that he met years ago and supervised. When Tenzō met Naruto, he believed Kakashi's words. But now after everything Naruto had been through - after everything all of them had been through - here before Tenzō stood a complex and seasoned adult.

Shinobi led difficult lives. They took a path in life that went against humane ways. They were taught to show no emotions - such expressions crucial in the term _human_. No, shinobi were not truly human. They had been desensitized and operated solely as tools - nothing more, nothing less - in a precarious political power struggle. Loss was so common within every shinobi's life, whether it be personally taking life or surviving in empty solitude. They all had to grow up so soon and so fast. The two young members of Team 7 used to appear still unjaded and unaffected from the life as shinobi - perhaps that was Kakashi's intention, since that man knew of and had lived the consequences. But that all changed with the War. Tenzō watched as Naruto and Sakura aged decades both aesthetically and mentally in a matter of stringent weeks. It would have been corny to say they grew up so fast but it had actually been scary to witness the drastic change. Surrounded by the thousands of comrades dying changed them.

Was this the price of maturity?

.::|::.

Hundreds of miles away, Sai's nose tingled. It twitched and he brought up a hand to lightly touch it experimentally. After crossing his eyes in question, he brushed the sensation away, assuming it to be one of those rumored reactions to the book he happened to be reading. However, he had heard that blood was supposed to come out... Maybe he was not reading enough?

Eyes like ink studied the orange book as Sai turned it over in his hands. This particular copy showed the signs of heavy use: well-thumbed edges, cracked spine, faded cover, and dog-eared pages, which probably indicated the better parts - not that he could really distinguish from the rest.

With what could be described as an almost thoughtful tilt of his mouth, Sai flipped back to his place. His bookmark fluttered out from the pages once he arrived. The small square piece of paper drew his attention, the lightly worn sheet creamy with black markings in a circular array. He pinched it between his thumb and finger, the surface smooth from months of worrying.

"Sai-san."

He automatically smiled and closed the book, making sure the improvised bookmark stuck securely in the crease.

"Hello, Tenten-san." He did not miss the disgusted look the brunette shot at his choice of literature but he made no move to hide the book from his spot on the park bench.

Tenten cleared her throat. "Do you know when Neji is coming back from his mission?"

His brows shifted in a vague shadow of confusion before lifting upward. "Mission? Neji-san is on a sabbatical."

The irritation slipped from her face to be replaced with surprise. "What?"

"Neji-san is on a sabbatic- "

"I heard you!" Tenten snapped.

"I see." He nearly beamed at the woman. "So your question was not because of your hard hearing but of ..." He searched for the word. "... incredulity?"

"Neji never takes time off," Tenten muttered to the side as she crossed her arms.

"I'm aware of that. We work together," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

Brown eyes bugged out at him before Tenten sighed and dropped her arms to rest at her sides. "Well, do you know when he'll be back, Sai-san?"

"No."

"You didn't ask?!" Tenten hissed at him.

Sai blinked. "Oh, I did ask, but Neji-san did not answer."

The brunette's shoulders sagged minutely. "... I-ah, thank you, Sai-san. Sorry to bother you."

He merely smiled broadly, discarding his confusion behind the false expression. The woman left and Sai's hand inched to the lip of the book. He opened it - taking care to keep the extraneous paper slip safe in one hand while the other hand propped the book before his face, completely missing the dirty glare of a disapproving mother as she and her family strolled through the public park.

.::|::.

Orochimaru had always favored the light of torches to illuminate his dark hideouts. Even then, one often was required to strain the eyes slightly to see. And the ventilation was very poor, leaving a musty scent to occupy one's nostrils.

None of that in his laboratory. Except the screams - he kept those. The cool tiles allowed for the tortured sounds to reverberate in the most pleasing way; in a way that he could be in any part of the facility and still hear them.

Out of habit, he brought up his hand to adjust his glasses, only to find nothing. After a small sour smile, he continued in his task of cleaning his scalpels. The crisp white fluorescent light flashed off the brightening metal. Ignoring the sudden appearance behind him, he held the now bloodless scalpel up to the light, turning it carefully every which way in thorough inspection. Satisfied with the spotlessness, he tenderly lined the medical instrument next to its counterparts on a shiny metal tray before turning around to meet a blank gaze.

"Well...?" he asked, faintly piqued.

He only received a robotic shake of the head.

His blood chilled at the negative indication, but it quickly spiked in temperature as it pounded furiously within him. He spun around again and clenched his teeth while awkwardly attempting to hide the rage and the desperation that shook his hands. He roughly placed his hands on the tray, glaring beyond the scalpels that were jarred and cast blinding, wobbling reflections on his face and the ceiling.

"... Your next orders, Kabuto-sama?"

He slowly released a strangled breath.

"Keep searching."

.::|::.

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_Next time:_

Between Two Lungs

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author's notes: review, please! I do not care what you say as long as you say it!


	3. Each Breath Screaming

Disclaimer: Yea-No. Just no.

Beta: Girl-Chama.

Soundtrack: "Leaving Earth" by Clint Mansell.

author's notes: Welcome sakura tsukiyomi lefey, CelticHero, and delilah-smurple - thank you for following. And thank you Scarlett Winds and delilah-smurple for favorite'ing.

**Scarlett Winds** asked: _"why Sakura left, what Tsunade had to do with it and is Kabuto the one looking for Sakura? ... are the Bleach characters going to be in this as well?"_

Woman: Sakura's reason for leaving will be hinted at throughout. Tsunade was just one of the contributing factors. You will see exactly what and who Kabuto is after. Yes, there will be more Bleach characters for sure. ;3 Thank you for reviewing!

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_HEARTLINES_

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**3**

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Each Breath Screaming

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He was closing in on his quarry. After months of failed attempts at even being in the right area, he could hear her now. Judging by the desperate snatches of ragged breathing thrown back at him, she knew that he was near. He had chased her to the most northwestern point of the Land of Waves where the Great Naruto Bridge connected the island to the Land of Fire. Despite Sakura's headstart, he had steadily reduced the distance between the two of them. Her endurance and stamina were commendable - he would admit that - but she was no match for him. The kunoichi's footsteps were many - any other ninja would have used chakra to enhance the strides taken, leading to a decrease of the number of steps necessary. He could not see her, but he inferred that the woman was weakening with each laborious step.

When he had set off on the trail, the sun had been at his back, the golden rays illuminating his path to Sakura. But now a thick fog rolled in from the western coastline, successfully obscuring anything before him in fleece-like coils. The early morning sun was unable to pierce the stubborn cocoon of the haze. He slowed and almost stopped completely. Soon, the only breaths he could hear were his own, and the staccato of steps grew faint before disappearing altogether.

.::|::.

Sakura waited ... and waited ... and waited.

She grit her teeth against the fear-induced tremors that threatened to rack her body. She knew her pursuer was toying with her. This nin had been steadily closing the distance between them, a formidable feat despite the adrenaline pumping through her body and the constant tension she had put herself under moving from place to place. She had to adapt out here, far from the shielding walls of Konohagakure.

The mist off the sea curled around the nearby trees and wove its damp way around the supports and beams of the Bridge. A gale whipped the waves, the cables groaned in the dead air of the early morning.

Strained green eyes scoured the treeline before her, desperately searching for some indication or sign of her hunter. The fog made it difficult for her see clearly - that branch could be a kunai, those particular knots could be a face, that leaf cluster could be a hand sign.

She waited ... and waited ... and waited.

Sakura hesitantly straightened from her defensive stance, her gaze never leaving the hazy environment. Maybe she had shaken off the pursuer... Maybe it had been a mistake - someone else, who just happened to be going in the same direction... Maybe she was going crazy ... that ... that was a probability. She inwardly snorted before dragging herself from her wandering thoughts.

She moved a foot back and cringed when the heel clicked against the concrete of the Bridge. She froze, eyes still roaming, but nothing happened. Another slow step, but nothing moved save for the sideways billows of the fog. Inhaling sharply, Sakura turned on her heel and ran. The cacophony of the muted echoes of her strides was loud in her ears, louder than the rush of blood in her ears. The Bridge extended far into the distance; its end would provide her with dozens of routes to the northeast, far from the Land of Fire.

Feathers suddenly exploded in her vision, revealing a severe figure as the quills vanished into gray smoke in their descent. Sakura frantically skidded to a stop, nearly falling backward in her attempt to backpedal.

"It was a move like that that cemented your trail," a cool voice informed her.

Sakura gaped. "Buntaichō - !"

.::|::.

Hinata bowed to the other noble in farewell, her hands clasped lightly to her thighs. "I will leave your beautiful home now, Marenoshin-sama."

The Head beamed at the woman's formal compliment and bowed in return, various heavy jewelry clinking with the sluggish movement. "Yes, it is a nice place, isn't it? Thank you for coming, Kuchiki-sama."

A small smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. "It is always a pleasure - "

"Tch, I don't know how you do it," drawled a new feminine voice. She turned to see two petite women, one with crossed arms, the other bowing politely to the aristocrats.

"Taichō!" joyously cried the other large man next to the Head of the Ōmaeda Family. "You came to see me - "

"No, Marechiyo, you fat idiot. I can't bear to be around your sweaty, disgusting ass in the barracks. Why would I bother to look at your ugly mug outside of it?"

The younger Ōmaeda sobbed. "T-Taichō~"

"Good morning, Suì-Fēng-chan. Good morning, Rukia-chan." She greeted them warmly.

"Good morning, Hinata-nēsama," Rukia murmured.

The taller of the two arrivals - though not by much, a couple of inches - nodded her head in acknowledgement before continuing to stare in revulsion at her second-in-command.

"Diplomacy takes a lot of patience and practice, Suì-Fēng-chan," Hinata tried to tell the captain. "I am sure Suì-Fēng-chan did not mean it, Marechiyo-sama."

The man's attitude flipped. "You're absolutely right, Kuchiki-sama! It's Suì-Fēng-taichō's way of feeling better about herself. She knows how great I am - "

Suì-Fēng punched the lieutenant, reminding Hinata of another woman. "Idiot," deemed the short woman, "Where the hell did you get that ridiculous logic from? Nevermind, let's go, Hinata-sama."

After bowing again to Marenoshin, who merely waved an extravagantly feathered fan at her, Hinata quickened her steps to walk side-by-side with the irascible captain. With a slight backwards glance over her shoulder, Hinata caught Rukia's eye but the other woman only shook her head and remained a few strides behind.

"Is everything alright, Suì-Fēng-chan?" Hinata asked softly. She was used to the special annoyance the diminutive captain held toward her lieutenant, but Suì-Fēng seemed to have a shorter temper than usual. The small woman would often complain to her about the poor habits and overall person of Marechiyo, from the food crumbs he would get in her hair to his too loud breathing.

Suì-Fēng harrumphed.

"... The Shinigami Women's Association would like to throw a party in your and Onīsama's honor," Rukia eventually answered when the other woman did not.

Muttering under her breath, Suì-Fēng added, "More like Matsumoto-fukutaichō wants an excuse to get drunk - in your presence."

Hinata sucked in a breath in surprise. "A party? For our anniversary?"

"Of course, Hinata-sama," Suì-Fēng pointed out, for once showing an emotion without the undercurrent of anger.

"How thoughtful of the Shinigami Women's Association. I am sure Byakuya-kun would appreciate it."

Her friend rolled her eyes at her words, but there was no actual condescendence intended. "See you later, Hinata-sama."

"Bye, Suì-Fēng-chan..." But the petite captain was already gone.

Hinata paused and waited for Rukia to make her way to her side. She smiled at her sister-in-law, meeting violet eyes. They walked together, the sleeve of her kimono occasionally lightly brushing the fabric of Rukia's uniform as she patiently waited in silence. She had learned that she would have to wait for Rukia when the smaller woman finally said what was on her mind. No pushing, or prompting, or prodding.

"Suì-Fēng-taichō wants the best for you, Onēsama," Rukia started. "I don't think she wants the party to be an occasion just to get drunk... Like it would be if Matsumoto-fukutaichō planned it."

"That's very kind of Suì-Fēng-chan."

"... Or it could be that Suì-Fēng-taichō saw Hisagi-fukutaichō with Matsumoto-fukutaichō..." Rukia muttered, almost too quiet to hear.

But Hinata heard it. She gasped, astonished by her sister-in-law's gossip streak. "Rukia-chan...!"

.::|::.

Renji fidgeted with the pen in his hand, the paperwork that should have met the writing utensil unseen and pushed to the back of his brain. He stared past the piles of paper on his desk and mentally gnawed at what to do and how to do it. Streams of dialogue and various lines floated through his mind, sporadically discarded and rearranged, considered and tweaked.

"Taichō ..." Wait! He was not ready, why the hell did his mouth open all of a sudden?

A cool, gray gaze met panicking brown eyes.

"Yes, Renji?"

He floundered for words that had previously been meticulously set up - where did they go? "... Er, um ... The Shinigami Women's Association!"

"..."

"..."

"... What about the Shinigami Women's Association, Renji?"

"W-ah ... y'see, sir ... they, um, want to throw - er - a party, taichō," he managed to say.

His captain placed his pen down neatly next to the paper he had been working on. "A party ..." Byakuya repeated.

"Yes, sir. For your anniversary. For you, sir, and Kuchiki-sama."

"..."

"Rukia told me it was Matsumoto-san's idea a-and Kusajishi-fukutaichō was apparently excited abou- "

"No."

"Wh-Excuse me, taichō?"

Byakuya pinned him under a stern gaze. "The Shinigami Women's Association will not 'throw' an anniversary party... I will. The Kuchiki Manor will host the party and you will help, Renji."

Renji blinked. "I will?" At the gaze turned glare, "I-I will, taichō!"

Byakuya continued, "Enforce the security around the Kuchiki grounds. Use whomever and however many from the Division you think necessary. I do not want Zaraki's brat making an assassination attempt on my wife again."

"Yes, sir!"

.::|::.

"Senju-san," Neji greeted her cordially.

"Don't call me that!" she spat.

A sea breeze blew the last vestiges of feathers-turned-smoke away and tugged at their clothing. Her face burned despite the brisk winds coming off the water below them, however, her pounding blood ran cold in her veins. Sakura breathed out softly into the salty air, but the tension refused to leave. Brow knitted, she cautiously surveyed the man before her. The first few weeks after her defection she had dodged various trackers from her home. She had successfully destroyed her scent and hidden her chakra, but she still had to be mindful of the little things that might have tipped off the specialists. She had seen Aburame, Inuzuka, and even Sai - who, in her professional opinion, did not try very hard - look for her. Gradually, the frequency and number of shinobi had become few and far between to the point where they had eventually stopped altogether. Of course, the heavy thought that one day someone might come across her hung over her anxious frame like a dark storm cloud tumbling over and over again with the threat of a torrent. But - of all the scenarios she had imagined and analyzed; of all the people she had pictured and prepared for - _this_ was not what she expected.

"Then," Neji started, "To what would you answer?"

Sakura crossed her arms and grumbled, "Nothing, if I can't help it..."

Neji stepped closer, forcing her to step back to keep the distance the same. It had always been unnerving to be under such an unnatural stare. Without any discernible irides, it had been difficult to determine exactly where and at what he would look. Working under him had been both enlightening and demeaning. He would not treat her any different than anyone else; and expected more of her.

"So you left all your titles and obligations - all your friends and comrades - behind for _some boy_, 'kunoichi-san'."

His words left her stunned. Curling her fists tightly, she shot back, "You don't know what I've been through, Neji-buntaichō!"

His stark white eyes flashed at her petulant words. "The world does not revolve around you, Senju Sakura - "

She opened her mouth to tell him not to call her that again but he spoke over her.

"You are a shinobi, Senju Sakura. You do not run away when things get a little tough."

She glared at him. "Sasuke-kun was not just 'some boy', buntaichō. And things were not getting 'a little tough', as you put it."

"Uchiha was a traitor, worse than scum. He deserved to die."

Sakura squeezed her eyes tightly and shook her head. "Sasuke-kun wasn't always like that - "

"You're clinging to the past, Senju Sakura. Uchiha was a murderer, a deranged and psycotic beast - "

"Maybe!" she cried, throwing her hands up in the air. "So what if I'm clinging to the past?! I'd rather remember him like that than as the monster the rest of the world knew him!"

Neji narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in her direction. "Do you regret what you did?"

Her limbs trembling violently, she held one arm tightly to her side while the other crossed her body to attach to her forearm. "I ... Yes, of course!... And, no."

Neji raised an eyebrow at her double answer.

Her hands clenched again. "It's not as simple as 'yes or no'. Not black or white; good or bad!"

"What you did was good," he pointed out.

Sakura wrapped her arms around her thinning frame and looked away onto the ocean shifting beneath the bridge on which they stood. "Yes," she agreed quietly. "Good for the world. But bad for Naruto..."

"So this is about Naruto-san."

She closed her eyes, and a flash of her best friend appeared on the back of her eyelids. "No, not just Naruto ... but the bond he and Sasuke-kun had. Even Sai wanted to protect that special bond they had, but I've broken it beyond repair."

"The Uchiha never wanted any sort of bonds with anyone."

"Maybe," she supplied passively, not really believing it as she thought back and searched her memory. Her listless green eyes sharpened, and she glared hard at Neji. "I'm not going back, buntaichō."

Neji smirked, sending warning bells ringing in her head. Her hand travelled to her tantō, her fingers slowly curling around its worn hilt.

"I did not plan on it," he said, making her freeze in shock. "In fact," he continued, "If everything goes the way I want, you will not have to step inside the village for a long time."

.::|::.

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_Next time:_

Stand On Ceremony

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author's notes: obviously you are reading this, but please review. Your support leaves a goofy smile on my face. :D Tell me everything!


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